


Pressing the Issue

by intangible_girl



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Natasha... less so, Romance, but Phil is a perfect gentleman, mentions of past dub/non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-18
Updated: 2012-11-18
Packaged: 2017-11-19 00:07:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/566835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intangible_girl/pseuds/intangible_girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha is used to sleeping with her handlers because she has to. With Phil, though, she thinks she might actually want to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pressing the Issue

Coulson jolted at the knock on his door, feeling foolish at having drifted off over the mission reports he was supposed to be looking at. Paperwork was a necessary evil, but one he was always glad to have a distraction from. He stood and opened the door, finding Natasha there in civilian clothes.

“Agent Romanoff,” he said, his surprise edging into his voice. She had proven her loyalty beyond any doubt over the last few days, but there was still that thrill of the unknown that had been fear the first time he saw her: what was she going to do? Why was she here, after hours, dressed in soft fabrics and looking so young with a bruise blossoming on her cheekbone?

“May I come in?” she asked softly, looking up at him, which was how he realized she wasn’t wearing heels.

“Yes, of course,” he said, moving out of the way. She closed the door behind her and folded herself onto the chair next to the couch. He sat across from her, studying her as surreptitiously as he could.

“What can I do for you?” he asked, almost hoping there was something she needed help with. Their working relationship was smooth and professional, but outside of that there were still rough edges to their interactions that he wished he could smooth over. He was glad she had sought him out.

“I think the better question is, what can I do for you?”

He stared at her, keeping his face blank.

“In what capacity?” he asked, searching her face for her motivations. She looked pleasant, studying him openly back, her face almost concerned. Did he seem that tired?

“You’ve done so much for me, you and Clint,” she said, plucking at the hem of her shirt. It was not an absent gesture, but it didn’t seem calculated either. “I have a place here, a home here. That’s far more than I’ve ever had before. And it occurred to me yesterday that I haven’t properly thanked either of you for that.”

Phil smiled. He was glad to hear that Natasha felt at home here. He had been worried that the suspicions of the other agents were going to make that impossible, but London had changed a lot of things. He was already seeing a difference in the way people looked at Natasha, a new appreciation where before there had only been cold hostility or outright fear.

“Simply knowing that you feel comfortable here is enough for me,” he said, meaning every word. She narrowed her eyes slightly in thought, and cocked her head.

“There must be something I can do,” she said, and he had a feeling that he’d gone off script somehow. He blinked, looking at her more closely. She was wearing clothes that highlighted her femininity tastefully, and her makeup was far more subtle than usual. Both these things were very unusual for Natasha, even on her off hours. She hadn’t just wandered down here; she had come for a purpose.

“Believe me, I’m honored that you consider this to be home. You don’t have to go out of your way to thank me.”

“But I want to,” she said, and then seemed taken aback by her own words. She hesitated, and then smiled as though she had realized something. “I want to,” she said again, and then leaned forward and kissed him.

Natasha was a beautiful woman, and she kissed like drinking wine, but everything about this seemed wrong to Phil, and so he carefully pushed her away, willing his heart to stop beating so fast.

“I’m flattered,” he said, because wow, yes, he was very flattered. He hadn’t had someone so beautiful come on to him since… well, college, probably. If ever. But… “But we can’t do this.”

“No one has to know,” she whispered, her voice like aural sex, and her codename suddenly made a lot more sense. He swallowed.

“That’s not why we can’t,” he said, proud of how steady his voice was. She got up and sat down on the couch next to him, curling her feet under her. Her feet were bare, and somehow that made everything that much more intimate and forbidden.

“Is this a SHIELD regulations thing?” she asked, one arm draped over the back of the couch, her hand not touching him, but maddeningly near. It was distracting, wondering if and when she was going to close the very tiny gap and lay her fingers on his shoulder. “Or is this more personal?”

“Both,” he said, trying to stay focused. “It would be… unethical. I’m your superior, and I… I’m not usually one for casual… for—” Oh, lord, he sounded like a stuttering teenager. Natasha smiled knowingly.

“Casual sex?” she supplied, and Phil felt lightheaded for a moment, his regulated breathing too slow for the amount of blood that his heart was now pumping furiously through his body. He hadn’t dared make that mental leap, she’d only kissed him for pete’s sake, but yes. That was, apparently, what she was offering. Holy shit.

“Yes, uh… that.” _Shoot me_ , he thought. _Shoot me now._

“What I feel isn’t casual,” she said, and his eyebrows raised of their own accord, making her laugh. “You’re the first handler I’ve ever had who hasn’t pressed the issue. I—”

“Pressed the issue,” Phil repeated dully, standing up. “Natasha, I would never—”

“I know,” she said, standing as well, placing a hand on his cheek. “I know you wouldn’t. That’s part of why I want to.”

Phil shook his head helplessly, his former heat replaced with icy horror. He’d heard hints, listened to the stories, but he’d had no idea—

“No,” he said, taking her hand and drawing it away from his face. “I can’t let you do that.”

“No one’s forcing—”

“As your superior and as your friend, it would be unethical for me to allow you to seduce me,” he said, uncomfortably aware that he was talking like Agent Coulson, not like Phil, but Phil was a blushing, blathering idiot right now, so really he didn’t have a choice. “Please go back to your quarters.”

She drew back from him, eyes suddenly hard and wary, and she studied him for a long moment. He allowed his severe expression to soften a little.

“I’m glad you feel safe here,” he said. “I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that.”

She huffed out a breath, and for a moment looked impossibly young. She was barely in her twenties, Phil reminded himself. She _was_ impossibly young. Then she lifted her chin.

“Alright,” she said. She opened her mouth to say more, and then apparently thought better of it, and turned to leave.

“Natasha,” he said, at the door, as she stepped out. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try this with Clint.”

She looked quietly furious, but then nodded and walked away, head high with wounded dignity. Phil closed his office door and leaned against it, heaving a noisy sigh. Nick was never going to let him hear the end of this.


End file.
